aggressive.

I admit that I did not believe her statements. Of course I could
not be sure she was telling untruths, but her sudden
embarrassment at the first sight of the bag, and the way in which
she regained her self-possession, made me doubt her clear
conscience in the matter.

Parmalee, who had come over and sat beside me, whispered:
"Striking coincidence, isn't it?"

Although his sarcasm voiced my own thoughts, yet it irritated me
horribly to hear him say it.

"But ninety-nine women out of a hundred would experience the same
coincidence," I returned.

"But the other ninety-eight weren't in the house last night, and
she was."

At this moment Mrs. Pierce, whom I had suspected of feeling far
deeper interest than she had so far shown, volunteered a remark.

"Of course that isn't Florence's bag," she said; "if Florence had
gone to her uncle's office last evening, she would have been
wearing her dinner gown, and certainly would not carry a street
bag."

"Is this a street bag?" inquired Mr. Monroe, looking with a
masculine helplessness at the gilt bauble.